


A beneficial diversion

by BeatrixHolmes221B



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Babysitting, Cute Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Fluff, Light Sherlolly, Romance, Rosie is Adorable, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock is a loving godparent, Teasing, Walks In The Park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 15:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19771327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeatrixHolmes221B/pseuds/BeatrixHolmes221B
Summary: John isn't well and Sherlock takes the plunge and offers to take Rosie for the day. After a lovely walk to see the birds a trip to see Molly is essential, isn't it?





	A beneficial diversion

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback greatly received if you have any. I would love to know how to make it a more enjoyable read and do let me know if there was anything you liked too! Bee xx

Sherlock rolled over. He could hear the cries of Rosie Watson that were carrying down the stairs. Odd. She didn't usually cry in the morning, she'd gotten into the routine of babbling and playing with her Peter Rabbit musical night light that was strapped onto the bars of her cot and John was a light enough sleeper that she was never left in her cot for long.

The cries got louder for a moment, faltered, then started up again. Sherlock had an awful feeling something was wrong. He lurched out of bed and stumbled through his door, and then made his way to the stairs and up.

"John?"

He pushed the door to see John sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. A red faced Rosie was stood clutching onto the bars of her cot and slowed her crying as she turned to see who had come in the room.

"Sorry Sherlock... I feel shocking." John groaned.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked, leaning down to pick Rosie up, bouncing instinctively to calm her. Her cries settled down.

"My head is splitting and I feel nauseous, migraine or maybe flu I reckon. Oh, I feel terrible!" John tried to stand but fell straight back down onto the bed.

"It's okay, go back to sleep, I’m sure I can manage Rosie for a bit" Sherlock tried to give a reassuring smile although he was a little daunted. He'd observed John caring for Rosie every day for the last month since they'd moved back in but so far he'd never done more than hold her or watch her as she sat in her high chair in the kitchen while he did his least dangerous experiments. Still, how hard could it be, he was a genius and his observations would surely be enough.

"Really? You sure?" John didn't really give him chance to change his mind before settling back with a groan.

Sherlock left the room quietly, with a now settled Rosie pressing her tear streaked face to his t-shirt, descending back to the kitchen and strapping Rosie in her high chair. She whimpered as he fastened the straps around her, then she started to cry.

"Shh shh, it's okay. How about some milk? Will that make you feel better?”

Rosie continued her crying while Sherlock found a bottle, prepared the milk and placed it in front of her. After realising that she either hadn’t noticed the bottle or was too upset to do it herself he picked it back up and held the teet carefully against her lips. Her crying slowed as she opened her mouth and lunged at the bottle, sucking vigorously.

“There we go, good girl Watson.” Sherlock cooed as he wiped away her tears with a spare bib that was lying on the table. Her hands reached up to take the bottle and he let go allowing her to place it on the tray before grinning up at him. He chuckled in response and tapped her nose lightly.

“Now for some food,” He let out a low hum as he glanced around the kitchen for some suitable breakfast food and decided on a banana and some baby rusk biscuits. He’d seen John preparing the same a few days before and she seemed to have taken it rather well. He sliced the banana and dropped it onto the tray then pulled two of the biscuits from the box and placed them down too. He was about to put the box away when he stopped and pulled one out for himself. He was aware that demonstrating appropriate behaviours was helpful with small children and he had found he rather liked the biscuits, after sneaking a few when John had forgotten to replenish the biscuit tin a few weeks before. He pulled the kitchen chair to face Rosie and sat down, biscuit in his mouth. Rosie giggled at him, banana and crumbs already covering her face and hands. He smiled back, marvelling at the way his world lit up at that tiny smile. It was Mary’s smile but he couldn’t bring himself to feel sad at the sight of it, Rosie’s glee was contagious and seemed to make everything okay. His mind came back to the present when Rosie, having clearly eaten her fill, began slapping the tray of her highchair sending specks of banana all over his face.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough” He lifted her from the high chair and held her out as he walked over to his chair and settling her on his knee. He used his foot to pull the change bag towards him and grabbed the baby wipes, wiping her face and hands free off breakfast. She turned her head mischievously to avoid him, gurgling loudly. Sherlock chuckled and held her up so she could bounce on her feet. The rather unpleasant smell that wafted under his nose cued his next move and he laid her on the rug at his feet, kneeling down before her and digging through the bag for the necessary items. He changed the nappy with relative ease and wondered what all the fuss was about, he’d never paid much attention to John when he’d done it and yet had managed with no issues. It was only as he was fastening her baby gro back up that Rosie had had enough of being good and started to roll away. He rolled her back over and slid her back into place and continued to fasten the poppers only to have them pulled from his grasp by a second, rather energetic roll from Rosie.

“No you don’t!” Sherlock heaved as he lunged forward, trying to grab Rosie before she had crawled away and just managed to pull her up and into his lap before she bumped her head on the coffee table. He put her on her back and finished fastening the baby-gro. 

“Now then Watson, do stop crawling off before you develop the spatial awareness to navigate the space efficiently, because it’ll be me that gets the blame if you bump your head.”

He put her back on the floor and watched, ready to avert danger but thankfully Rosie just reached out and pulled one of her brightly coloured books from the bottom of the coffee table towards herself. Sherlock settled into his chair and watched as her little fingers worked to prise the thick wooden pages apart, eyes roaming over the colourful pictures. Once she had finished the book she held it out to Sherlock who took it with a smile and placed it on the arm of his chair. She gave a frown, crawled to his foot and began to pull herself up with his trouser leg. 

“Uuh!” Her demanding tone coupled with an outstretched arm clued Sherlock in to what she wanted and he lifted her effortlessly into his lap. She picked the book back up and lifted it to his face causing him to jerk his head back out of the way.

“Hmmm not the most interesting reading material Watson but I suppose you have to start somewhere.”

He turned the first page of the book and began to read in an animated voice,

“Sam has lots of pets, he has one red dog,” He turned the page, “Two orange cats. Three Yellow snakes. Hmmm bit of a pattern developing wouldn’t you say Watson?”

Rosie looked up at Sherlock, before pulling on his hand to help him turn the page.

“Four green fish.” He turned to the final page, “Five-”

He was cut off by Rosie who was squealing happily and banging the page excitedly with her palms, clearly enjoying the picture of the five, bright blue cartoon birds.

“You like them? Hmm, I think a trip to the park is in order, better to learn from live specimens.”

He stood, shifting Rosie to his hip as he dropped the book down onto the coffee table before making his way to the door, picking up his coat, scarf and Rosie’s thick pink fluffy coat and descended to the hallway. He’d been pulling and pushing at the folded pram for nearly five minutes, Rosie pulling herself up on the hall chair, before Mrs Hudson came to investigate the banging.

“Oh dear, let me” She chuckled, deftly unfolding the pram in a single movement, letting it click into place. 

“Where’s John? I hope you’re not taking her to a crime scene!”

“No, John’s unwell so I’m occupying Rosie, by taking her to the park for a spot of birdwatching.” Sherlock replied shortly.

“Oh well that's nice isn't it! Oh, but you can’t let her go out like that, she’ll catch her death” Mrs Hudson said, looking down at Rosie. “There’s a pram blanket on the sofa, and you’ll need the nappy bag too dear.”

Mrs Hudson retreated back into her flat with a chuckle as Sherlock let out a huff, scooped Rosie up and trudged up the stairs.  
____________________

Ten minutes later, Rosie had been changed into a thicker baby gro, wrestled into her coat and then her pram and had a thick blanket tucked around her. The nappy bag, which Sherlock had thankfully had the forethought to restock and add 2 bottles to, was now tucked into the basket under the pram and they were finally ready to leave.

Walking along Baker Street, Sherlock considered the unfamiliarity of what he was doing, he’d never pushed a pram in his life. His experience with babies was just as limited and yet he felt completely at ease with Rosie. The responsibility of caring for her was an honor and he wished to give her all of the care and attention he promised Mary and John that he would and more. It wasn’t just about making a vow or paying a debt, it was a selfish need to be a part of her life, to be needed by someone for more than just his deductive reasoning. He glanced down at her, she was looking wide eyed at the people hurrying past them and the shop fronts, drinking in all the sights and sounds and smells. He was quite fascinated by it, things that he could notice in a split second, Rosie was discovering for the very first time. He wanted to show her, teach her as much as he could, show her how to read the world in front of her. As alien a thought though it was, he wanted her to be better than him. For all his abilities, there were many things he couldn’t do. Processing his emotions effectively for one. He pushed that thought away, this certainly wasn't the time to start sifting through them. 

He turned the pram into the entrance to Regents park, following the path right around the lake, crossing a small bridge and continuing to the bandstand. Along the path was a group of pigeons pecking at the ground. Sherlock walked straight through the middle of them so they flapped up around the pram in their rush to get out of the way, making Rosie squeal in delight. He grinned down at her, pushing the hood of the pram back so that she could get a better view. Upon reaching the bandstand he saw a small number of ducks at the water's edge. Parking the pram he extricated Rosie from the straps and arranged her on his hip, wrapping his coat around her to keep her extra warm against the autumnal frost. He wandered down to the ducks, relaying various bird-related facts that he could pull from his mind palace. Bending his knees he arranged Rosie on his knee so that she could watch the ducks as one waddled past close to her left foot. She watched attentively for a few minutes before Sherlock stood and started to point up towards the tree to where a small magpie could be seen.

They returned to the pram and once Rosie was securely strapped back in Sherlock continued their walk at a leisurely pace, taking time to enjoy the fresher air and open space. He wandered his mind palace freely also, not really looking for particular information but considering all that had happened over the last few months. He had been gradually discovering childhood memories of Eurus and Victor, thought they were still hazy and very much incomplete but the walk seemed to be shaking away the cobwebs and allowing more clarity than Sherlock had previously found. As intriguing as it was, now wasn’t the time for these thoughts either, he needed a distraction.

He made his way out of the park and towards the main road to hail a cab. He lifted the pram gently into the cab and secured the break and slid beside it onto the seat.

“Bart’s hospital please.” Sherlock reached into the pram, hooking Rosie’s fist around his finger and rubbing his thumb across her own little fingers to soothe her as she grumbled gently. “We’re going to go and see Molly now.”

Rosie smiled at him, making him aware of his own grin. “You like Molly don’t you?”.

He heard Mary’s voice faintly in his ears, saying the same to him, watching her face contorting into a grin as he ignored the thoughts running round his head. Rosie giggled. Sherlock sat back to look through the window, the slight grin not quite dropping from his own face.  
_______________________

Sherlock paid the cabbie as they pulled up outside the hospital and eased the pram out onto the pavement. He headed inside and to the lift, where a tall woman with dark hair side stepped to allow room for the pram, smiling down at Rosie, who returned the gesture enthusiastically.

“Hello! Aren't you lovely” the woman cooed at Rosie before flashing a smile to Sherlock. “Your daddy’s very lucky to see that lovely smile everyday.”

“She’s my god-daughter actually.” Sherlock said with a slight frown on his features as though frustrated by her incorrect deduction.

“Ahh sorry, I just assumed” the woman flushed slightly at his odd expression.

The expression however was for an entirely different reason. Little over a year ago he had been reassuring John and Mary that after caring for him, a baby would be little trouble. Yet here he was, in front of a reasonably intelligent woman whose short nails, faint scent of sanitiser and the brown file tucked under the arm told that she was a medical professional of some standing had thought he looked like a father. It was something he had never stopped to consider, his desires nor actions were conducive to lasting relationships, never mind the raising of children and he was taken aback by the comment. Though having a child of his own seemed rather unlikely, having a role in Rosie’s upbringing was a privilege he was very grateful for.

“Though her smile is indeed a gift” Sherlock gave in an awkward afterthought.

The woman smiled back warmly, quite taken with him, then gazed back down to Rosie, who was gazing up at her intently. She made an exaggerated smile and Rosie giggled and kicked her legs in the pram.

The lift pinged and the doors slid open and the woman exited, throwing a smile to Sherlock as she did, then the doors shut again and the lift continued up to the top floor where Molly’s lab was located. Sherlock pushed the pram out at the correct floor and strode purposely down the corridor, reached out to push open the door to the lab and started to maneuver the pram through the doorway. Footsteps could be heard approaching at the sound of the pram bumping against the door.  
“Sherlock? What wrong? Why have you brought Rosie here?” Molly looked worried, holding the door and helping to guide the pram into the room.

Sherlock made to answer, but realised that he didn’t have one.

“John is ill and-” He began.

“Look, Sherlock if you needed someone to watch Rosie you could just call. You really can’t just bring her to the lab and leave her here.”

“I don’t. I’m not, I’m perfectly capable of caring for Watson without assistance, I just thought the social interaction would be a beneficial diversion.” He condescended. He hoped Molly took that statement just in reference to Rosie and not himself too. 

No such luck. Molly had always known his emotions better than he had himself, she thought it was because she didn’t count, he knew it was because she had always counted, had always been able to see more than most people did. She saw his tired eyes, he was more in need of her than Rosie today.

“Well, it’s certainly good to see her,” Molly smiled at him earnestly, his chest grew warm and tight at the ‘and you’ implied in her eyes.

Rosie’s babbling was getting louder as she grew increasingly impatient for Molly’s attention. Molly turned her eyes to the infant at once. She unfastened the pram straps and lifted her out pulling her into a hug before settling her onto her hip.

“So Rosie, is Sherlock doing a good job of looking after you today? Yes?” She spoke conspiratorially into Rosie’s ear. “Or do you need me to create a diversion for your escape?” She pressed a kiss to Rosie’s head, who snuggled in close.

“I doubt she’d need assistance, she’s a rather clever baby,”

“You’d know” Molly giggled as Sherlock frowned in confusion. “I was going to have lunch in a few minutes if you want a break? I don’t mind taking her for an hour.”

Gone were the days where Molly took every possible opportunity to invite him for coffee or dinner, infact she hadn’t invited any social interaction from him at all since he had demanded entry to her flat to explain all that had happened at Sherrinford and practically broke down before her from the exhaustion and relief of reaching her alive at her flat. He found himself now more drawn to her than ever before.

“Mind if I come along, I’m famished?” Too cheery. He moved swiftly with the pram towards the door, waiting for her to hold it open. She gave a confused little smile, before moving to the desk at one side to retrieve her shoulder bag and made her way to the door.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The air was still cold with a light drizzle setting in as they walked the short distance between the hospital door and the little cafe on the opposite corner. They made their way to a table with enough room by the side to park up the pram and Molly settled into a chair with Rosie stood in her lap and bouncing excitedly on her legs.

“Chips?” He asked.

“Do you eat anything else?” She gave a little laugh, “but yes, please!”

Sherlock went to the counter and ordered two plates of chips with a cup of tea for each of them and a jug of hot water for Rosie's bottle.

Sherlock came back with the hot drinks and Molly reached over into the change bag and pulled out the bottle of formula, dropping it into the jug to warm. Rosie cooed and patted the table happily.

He didn’t realise the smile that had graced his face until Molly’s eyes rose to meet his and after a blink of what he could only assume was disbelief she grinned widely back.

The rest of the hour passed in quiet companionship, they ate their chips and discussed current cases. As conversation moved on and plates were cleared away they talked about Rosie and John, Greg and Mycroft’s burgeoning friendship and Mrs Hudson and with their second cup of tea Sherlock ventured to enquire after Molly’s weekend activities and her finds in the antiques shop on Portobello Road. He found it much easier these days to be interested in those he loved, much more invested in their mental state. He was learning the importance and advantages of caring and he found that he didn’t mind it at all. Molly cradled Rosie close to feed her, her fingers patting gently against Rosie’s leg to soothe her while they continued to talk.

“Someone’s sleepy!” Molly cooed as she pulled Rosie into a hug. As if in response the little girl gave a yawn.

“How did you know?” Sherlock wasn’t used to reading babies, unaware of typical physical cues.

“She rubs her ears when she’s tired,” replies Molly with a quiet giggle. “Well, I’d really best get back, leave you to get this little one home for a nap” Molly placed Rosie into her pram fastening the harness and tucking in the blanket, ensuring the seat was reclined.

She stooped to brush a soft kiss on Rosie’s cheek and straightened, turning to Sherlock. Without thought, Sherlock pressed a kiss to Molly’s cheek and her face coloured instantly. His own ears turned a deep shade of pink.

“See you soon Molly,”

“Yes, thanks for lunch, it was really nice!” 

\-----------

Sherlock slid the pram from the cab with care and dug in his pocket for his key. He parked the pram beside the staircase and carefully removed the slumbering infant, lifting her easily to his shoulder and letting her nestle beneath his coat lapel. Change bag on the other shoulder, he made his way up the stairs.

He was greeted, upon entering the living room, to the sight of John sat nestled under a blanket in his chair with a cup of tea, steaming in his hands.

“You better not have taken my baby to a bloody crime scene Sherlock Holmes!” John was careful to whisper, knowing all too well how Rosie would react to being woken by raised voices.

“You know full well I haven’t John, Lestrade would have notified you immediately. We merely went for a constitutional in the park and a social visit to the morgue.”

“Oh yes, because that’s a much more suitable place for a baby” John’s eyebrows arched as he spoke.  
“Was it about the Davenport case?” 

“No, it was… I thought Rosie would appreciate the visit.”

“Oh I see,” John gave Sherlock a wolfish grin, which he very definitely ignored. 

“I’m going to put Rosie down for her nap now John.” He drops the change bag by the door and heads towards the stairs.

“Give her a kiss from me. Rosie that is, not Molly.”

John ducked as Sherlock’s scarf sails towards his head. He lets out a giggle as the stomps, or as close to stomping as you can get when carrying a nearly sleeping baby up the stairs, faded.


End file.
